Killing With Conversation
by The Noble Platypus
Summary: It was only a matter of time before something triggered Donna Noble. Spoilers for 4.13, "Journey's End."
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I'd had a lot of caffeine, and I was in a bad mood because of the utter no-sense-makey-ness of the finale. This is the result. Doctor Who is the property of the BBC, and if you accused them of having anything to do with this fanfic, they'd probably hit you with a stick. If you accused me of having anything to do with them, I would laugh right heartily.

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Donna Noble decided she needed a drink.

She'd apparently missed another alien crisis, but that was par on the course; it would have been more unbelievable if she'd actually been _involved_ for once. But ever since then, her mum and granddad had been acting a bit... off. Her mum had been suspiciously silent on the you-really-ought-to-quit-temping-and-make-something-of-yourself front, which would have been weird enough without her also saying on no less than two occasions that she loved Donna and was proud of her. _Proud! _That's a laugh. Donna _had _laughed, in fact, but then she'd caught her granddad looking at her like she'd broken his heart or something, and she'd stopped.

She kept catching those little looks from him, sad looks. She might have called him out on it, but she didn't want to hear that _he _was starting to think her a disappointment. Maybe he and her mum had switched bodies or something. Maybe aliens were responsible for _that_. Well, if they were, she'd like a word with them. She could deal with her mum being a harpy, but it bothered her to no end when her granddad wouldn't look her in the eye.

She'd considered ringing a few of her mates and heading to the pub, but then decided that walking to Tesco and buying a bottle of something was more in keeping with the pathetic, self-pitying mood she was in. She'd make a lonely drunk out of herself. That was better than making nothing out of herself at all, wasn't it?

A wry smile twisted her lips as she walked down the rain-slicked street. She'd be a lonely drunk--and since she'd decided to walk, this made her a lonely drunk with no car. How much worse could it get? It had stopped raining an hour ago, but maybe it would kick back in and she could get drenched. How fitting would _that _be? She smothered a giggle.

"Donna?"

Donna started in the middle of the Tesco's parking lot, then looked around until she'd located the speaker. A gorgeous man in a long coat was standing about ten yards away and beaming at her like she was his personal Jesus. _That's all right, then, _Donna thought, one of her eyebrows quirking itself without her permission. Did she know him? He _did _seem awfully familiar, but she couldn't quite place him... which was very weird. His wasn't a face you'd forget in a hurry. _Damn, _but he was pretty. She flashed him a smile that she hoped was more flirtatious than uncertain, and said, "Hiiiiii!" as if greeting an old friend. She'd just pretend she knew who he was until she actually figured it out.

"Donna Noble!" the man said, rubbing in the fact that he knew exactly who _she_ was, at any rate. His grin widened as he came striding towards her.

"That's me," Donna said, trying not to feel too stupid. He had an American accent, something else that stood out and made her even more frustrated that she couldn't quite remember who he was. How could she have _forgotten? _Had she been really drunk when they'd met? Her frustration increased exponentially as the man enveloped her in an enthusiastic hug. He'd gone for the _hug! _They were on _hugging _terms! At some point, she had _hugged this man and then forgot. _Not possible. Not _fair, _at that. She returned the hug with only a little less enthusiasm, mind racing. Sheri's birthday bash, maybe? Nah, couldn't have been. Oooh, he was fit. She could feel his muscles through his coat. Then he kissed her on the cheek with a flamboyant "mwah!", and she couldn't help making a sort of incredulous whuffle of glee.

The man laughed and pulled back, holding her at arm's length and taking her in. "Look at you," he said, and Donna had to bite her cheek to stop herself telling him he was welcome to look all he liked. "Still traveling?"

_Traveling? _Had she met him in Egypt? But surely she would have gotten a photo--even if she'd had to be discreet and kind of pervy and take one on her mobile while he wasn't looking, she would have gotten a photo. "Oh, hardly! Bit of a homebody, really," she said, trying to sound good-natured and not at all bitter. No, not one bit.

"Really?" Puzzlement crept across his features. "But you and the Doctor got along so well."

_The Doctor? _Donna's head began to ache. There must be a reason, she decided, a specific _reason _that she wasn't following this conversation half as well as she should have been able to do. And it was just _there._ Her brain felt like it had grown a million little claws and was frantically scrabbling at the edge of something slippery. "Sorry?" she said.

The man tightened his grip on her shoulders, staring at her. "The Doctor. You traveled with him."

Smiling nervously, Donna resisted the urge to try and shake the man off. "There were a lot of people in my tour group," she said apologetically. "If one of 'em was a doctor or a lawyer or whatever, I wouldn't know. And they kept us so busy shuttling us from site to site," she added, aware that she was beginning to babble and unable to stop, "we didn't really get to chat much with everyone, did we?" She was reaching, she knew, and judging by the man's expression, she'd guessed wrong. _Not _Egypt, then.

"Donna," the man said after an awkward pause, "what's my name?"

She felt like crying. She felt like kicking him and running away and sobbing her eyes out like a little kid. "I don't know!" she wailed, panic swelling in her chest. "I should know, but I don't!" _Why don't I know? _

"Captain Jack Harkness," he said, slow and reassuring. "Ring any bells?"

"I _know _you." Contrary to her impulse to run away, she now found herself gripping his arms so tightly she was vaguely surprised that he didn't complain. "I _know _I know you."

_--"You can hug me if you want. No, really, you can hug me."--_

"Someone must have wiped your memory," Jack said, giving her shoulders a sympathetic squeeze. "But don't worry, I'm sure the Doctor's looking for you. He'll fix it. And if he doesn't, _I _will." He smiled at her, but she barely saw it before her eyes slipped out of focus, her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

_--Earth and the Adipose and the Lost Moon of Poosh and Davros and Caan and Rose and Martha and Midnight and Agatha Christie and the Library and Pompeii and there's something on her back, and planet of the hats, she's ready, and the blue box, and the DoctortheDoctortheDoctor--_

"Donna!" Jack was shouting at her. How long had he been doing that? And why couldn't she see him?

Donna opened her eyes.

All she could see at first was the front of Jack's coat; she must have briefly diverted brain power away from her motor functions during the memory recovery process; good of Jack to catch her. It was quite nice just leaning against him with his arms around her, actually, but she didn't have time to enjoy it. She straightened abruptly, and Jack stared at her.

"Donna? Are you all right?"

"_He _wiped my memory!" She was elated, then just as quickly she was furious. "The skinny little _git! _He didn't even ask me--did the _opposite _of asking, just went ahead and did it over my protests--that's... that's _mind-rape, _that is!"

Jack's arms fell to his sides. "The _Doctor _wiped your memory?!"

"Because his brain and my body can't coexist, right? The consciousness doesn't match the biology, but he could have--" and she keeled over again as knowledge only a Time Lord could have hit her brain like a brick. There were quite a few things he could have done, even discounting the option of letting her die, and even if he had insisted on the memory wipe, he'd been so bloody _stupid _about it, no wonder her head was pounding. Jack was holding her up again; she clung to his shoulder and stared up at him. "He didn't tell you? _Any _of you?"

Jack scowled; evidently, it didn't even take the brain of a Time Lord to comprehend the magnitude of that particular error. "I'm going to throttle him."

"Ladies first," Donna growled before another wave of pain hit her. "It was only a matter of time before something triggered it," she gasped out once it had subsided, "but now it's all back in my head and I won't last, I can't--" she took a ragged breath "--it was only a matter of _time." _She was going to die, she knew. His brain was going to overwhelm hers yet again, and she was going to die before she even got a chance to give the Doctor a piece of _her_ mind. It just wasn't fair. But Jack would rip him a new one for her--that was some comfort.

She felt his hand pass over her forehead, smoothing back her hair. "You're burning up," Jack muttered. He half carried, half dragged her across the lot and into the relative privacy of the loading dock. At least fewer passers-by would bear witness to whatever display was about to happen. She didn't _think _it would involve an actual explosion, but she couldn't be sure, and trying to think was starting to hurt rather a lot.

"Tell him," Donna murmured as Jack lowered her to the ground, propping her back up against the brickwork, "tell him..." she trailed off, at a loss. She had more she wanted to tell the Doctor than her ebbing strength would allow her to express. She shut her eyes. _Tell him that even though I'm dying, I at least know who I bloody well am..._

"Tell you what," Jack said, cupping her face in his hands, "you can tell him yourself."

_No, _she wanted to patiently explain, _I can't, because I'm dying, we've been through this. _But she didn't think she was capable of speech. And that was just as well, because she quite suddenly found her mouth otherwise occupied.

It took a few moments, after the rush of light and heat had subsided, before she realized Jack was kissing her. More than that, he was snogging the ever-living _daylights_ out of her. Seemed a funny time for it, unless this was his way of saying goodbye. There were worse ways to go, she supposed, worse last impressions to have.

It took her a few more moments to realize that this impression wasn't so much last as it was lasting. And that even disregarding the fact that Captain Jack Harkness was kissing her, she was feeling a good deal better than she had just previously. In fact, she was feeling fit enough to shove him off of her, so she tried it. It worked.

"Oof," Jack said, throwing a hand back to steady himself. Donna folded her arms, and he grinned at her. "Feeling better?"

"What the hell did you just do to me?!" She didn't sound half as grateful as she probably should have done, but Jack didn't seem to mind.

"I hit you with a jolt of regenerative energy--a parting gift from Rose Tyler," he explained when she continued to stare at him in utter incomprehension. "It's saved me from just about every kind of death you could imagine, and a few you couldn't." He stood, then offered Donna a hand up. After a moment's hesitation, she took it. Other than a brief wobble, she felt surprisingly steady on her feet.

"And did this transfer of 'regenerative energy' really require snogging?" Donna asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Jack tipped her a wink. "Does it matter?"

After considering this a moment, Donna answered, "No. S'pose not."

Jack's smile faded as he gave her an anxious once-over. "Memories intact?"

Donna smiled. "All present and accounted for, Captain."

"And no residual Time Lord consciousness?"

Donna frowned and rubbed her forehead. "Say that again?"

"Never mind; that answers my question." Jack grinned and offered her his arm, which she took to be companionable and not at all because she still felt a bit wobbly. "So, Donna Noble, what were you up to before I accidentally almost killed you with conversation?" he asked as they strolled away from the loading dock and back across the lot.

"I was gonna get a drink, actually."

"Any interest in salvaging those plans?" Donna pursed her lips, and Jack added, "I'm buying."

"Well, all right, then."

"And after that, we can find the Doctor and kick his ass."

Donna grinned. "You sure know how to butter a girl up."

"We might find time for that, too."

"Oh, shut up."

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I may or may not write an epilogue where they find the Doctor and kick his ass... leaning heavily towards the "may." This is my first stab at writing Donna, so do let me know what you thought!


	2. Epilogue

Well, here's the epilogue, you crazy kids!

**Disclaimer: **Doctor Who belongs to the Beeb, and the closest I'll ever get to owning the Beeb is making up drinking games for the HYS threads on their news website... which isn't really all that close, now, is it? Though it is fun. Also, the characters sort of took over and thumbed their noses at my original ideas for the epilogue. It happens.

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Perhaps it was a tiny scrap of leftover Time Lord brain in her head that had urged her to go topside for a walk on that particular day, at that particular time. Perhaps it was all-too-human instinct, or women's intuition, or maybe she was an Indigo Child or something, or maybe it was just dumb luck. Regardless, the end result was that when the TARDIS finally materialized over the rift in Cardiff for a refuel, Donna Noble just happened to be standing only a dozen paces away.

Her head had snapped up the moment she heard the familiar grinding of the TARDIS, and by the time the noise had faded, Donna had already alerted Jack and covered half the distance to the blue police box. A moment later, she was standing in front of the familiar, worn doors. She hesitated, then rapped sharply on the wood.

There was no response.

Donna frowned, upping her efforts to 'pounding.' Another pause dragged itself laboriously by, and any charitable feelings she'd been secretly harboring for the Doctor began to dissipate. The skinny little git wasn't even going to get a hug if he didn't open up in a hurry. Finally, she gave the door a good, solid kick. "OY!" she bellowed for good measure.

The door was flung open so quickly that she was sure the Doctor must have been standing right next to it. And there he was, same pinstriped suit and ridiculous, foofy hair. He stared at her, several amusing expressions chasing each other across his features: shock, then alarm, then joy, then (as he took in her expression) something akin to fear. "...Donna?"

"Ooooh, you remember me, then?" she asked with disarming sweetness. The Doctor gaped at her, and she seized the opportunity to pull her hand back and smack him across the face. Hard. "WELL, _HOW NICE FOR YOU!"_ she shouted.

"Ow!" he yelped, putting a hand to his cheek and staring at her in consternation. "What was _that _for?!" To his credit, he seemed to instantly realize what a stupid question that was, and he took a step backwards, out of arm's reach.

"'What was that _for?'" _ Donna stormed towards him, provoking another retreat deeper into the TARDIS. "What the bleeding hell do you _think _that was for?! No means _no, _Doctor Mind-Rape!" The Doctor bumped up against the console, which conveniently cut off his retreat (though he did manage to buy himself another foot by leaning backwards).

"What," he snapped, scrabbling to regain his composure, "I was just supposed to let you _die,_ then? Is that what you wanted?"

"I _wanted _a solution that didn't involve forgetting all of the best parts of my bloody _life, _Doctor! _Evidently,_ one existed!" she snapped right back, gesturing pointedly towards her very-much-not-dead self.

"Well--how _did _you manage that, anyway?" The Doctor fished his specs out of his pocket and leaned forward to peer at her intently, the threat of an imminent slap forgotten. Donna hesitated, thrown (though she belatedly realized that she should have anticipated such tactics from someone as chronically distracted as the Doctor).

"That was me," Jack said from the doorway, where he was catching his breath after his sprint from Torchwood HQ. Donna and the Doctor both turned to stare at him, and he waved his hand in a 'carry on' sort of way. He glanced at the Doctor, adding, "You're welcome."

Donna turned back towards the Doctor, fully intending to resume her tirade. She'd had a good few weeks to think of all the things she wanted to say to him (well, shout at him, more like), and she didn't want him to think for one second that he was getting off the hook. But before she could say anything, she was treated to the cheery blue glow of the sonic screwdriver that the Doctor was buzzing right in her face. "Oy!" she swatted it aside.

"Completely neutralized," he breathed, ignoring her entirely as he peered at the instrument's readings. "That bit of Time Lord DNA reduced to just... _junk." _He tucked the sonic screwdriver away, staring pensively into the middle distance and apparently unaware of the stink eye she was giving him. Then he lowered his gaze, and a slow grin spread across his face until it almost threatened to split it in two. "Oh, have I missed you, Donna Noble!"

Donna pursed her lips, her annoyance beginning to begrudgingly evaporate. "If you'd had it all _your _way, I wouldn't even be able to say the same," she scolded.

"So," he gave her that kicked-puppy look of his, the one that made her want to both roll her eyes and ruffle his hair, "no hug?"

She glared at him a few moments more for good measure, then gave in and cracked a smile. "Oh, _go on,_ then." The words had barely left her mouth before he scooped her up and spun her about with such enthusiasm that her legs smacked into the console. _"Ow!_ Watch it!"

"Sorry!" the Doctor said, setting her back on her feet, but not letting go.

"You should be," she muttered, returning the hug for a few lingering moments before loosening her grip. "All right, spaceman, we don't _all_ have respiratory bypass systems."

He released her with some show of reluctance, then went back to eyeing her like she was a fascinating new species (which she sort of was, she supposed). "Memories all intact, I take it?" Before she could reply, he barreled on, "But _how? _ And what are you doing in _Cardiff?"_

Donna jerked her head over towards Jack, who had recovered himself and moseyed up to the pair. "Ask that one."

The Doctor shot an inquiring look at Jack, who folded his arms. "Well, when I happened to bump into her outside a Tesco, I accidentally triggered a memory recovery. Seems _someone_ wiped her mind without letting any of her old _friends_ know that they weren't allowed to walk up to her and tell her all about herself." Jack raised an eyebrow, and the Doctor had the decency to squirm a little. "Damn good thing it wasn't Martha who triggered her--or Sarah Jane. They wouldn't have been able to do anything but watch. Poor Luke would have been traumatized for life."

"And what about all my extended family?" Donna chimed in, getting a fair amount of perverse enjoyment out of the Time Lord's increasing embarrassment. "I can't get through a family function anymore without my Aunt Millie getting sloshed and telling me that Lance was as close as I'll ever get to bagging a man--can you imagine if my head had exploded all over her sitting room?" She paused, imagining it. The expression on old Millie's face _was _rather satisfying. "The stains _never _would have come out!"

"Your head wouldn't have _exploded," _the Doctor sulked, though she got the distinct impression that he wasn't one-hundred-percent certain of himself on that point. She gave him a Look, and he frowned at her. "And even if it _had, _just splash a little hydrogen peroxide around and--"

"Doctor!" Donna stared at him, torn between looking aghast and cracking up.

"What? It really works!"

"That's not the _point!"_

_"Anyway," _Jack interrupted, "Thanks to my ability to think quickly in a crisis--"

"He snogged me."

"He _what?!"_

"I loaned her some of my regenerative energy," Jack finished, smug. Only Jack could make 'regenerative energy' sound like a dirty euphemism.

"By _snoggin'_ me," Donna reiterated with a grin. It was her favorite part.

"Was that... strictly necessary?" the Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow at Jack.

Jack smirked at him. "Oh, like _you're _one to talk, Mr. 'Genetic Transfer.'" (Jack _wasn't _the only one who could make 'genetic transfer' sound like a dirty euphemism; ever since Martha had shared that little story with the crew, they'd all been doing it.)

"Yeah, Martha told us all about _that," _Donna said with a knowing nod.

The Doctor flushed. "That was just--"

"Hold up," Donna cut him off. "Are you actually _blushing? _'Dear Diary...!'"

He glared at Jack, avoiding Donna's eyes. "I was improvising!"

"So was I," came the swift retort.

"Subject change!" the Doctor announced, abruptly turning to face Donna. "You still haven't told me what you're doing in Cardiff."

Donna stood up just a little bit straighter. "Jack's given me a proper job--no more temping!"

"What, at Torchwood?" The Doctor wrinkled his nose.

"We needed her," Jack said, his expression grave.

Donna nodded in sympathetic agreement. "You should have _seen _the state of their files."

The Doctor stared at her. "You're handling Torchwood's _files?"_

"With Tosh gone and Ianto out in the field half the time, we needed the extra assistance." Jack slung an arm around her, and she had to work to hide her giddiness. "She's completely revamped our filing system. She'd probably have a go at the archives, too, if Ianto--" he stopped abruptly and put a hand to the bluetooth in his ear, then rolled his eyes at Donna. "The Hrallak is out again.I'd better go tackle it before it eats someone."

"Don't forget about its tail like you did last time," she advised. He was already almost out the door, but he flashed her a brief smile before disappearing from view.

He hadn't said, 'I'll see you back at HQ in five,' Donna couldn't help noting. Then again, he also hadn't said, 'Goodbye.' She wasn't sure whether to be grateful or annoyed.

"So," the Doctor said, leaning back against the console and fiddling idly with a lever, "what do you think? One more trip?" He snuck a glance at her.

"Martha told us all about _that, _too," Donna replied, raising an eyebrow at him.

He grinned at her, though it didn't seem to quite reach his eyes. "Can't put anything past you, can I?"

"Course not," she scoffed. Then, her tone softening, she continued, "I have a real job, now, Doctor. And I _like _it, I really do."

"Sure," he replied, clearing his throat and examining his trainers.

"And I can't just swan off like before."

"Course not." He sniffed, then looked up at her. "I'm sorry, Donna."

She nodded. "I know."

There was a pause, and she let it drag for a bit before clearing her throat. "But then, it_ is_ Friday."

The Doctor perked up almost imperceptibly, but kept his tone casual. "Getting on four PM, if I'm not mistaken."

"More like two."

"Close enough."

"So if you had me back by Sunday," Donna said, slowly circling the console, "I wouldn't have to leave my shiny new job with the pretty, pretty Captain, now, would I?" Aha--_there _was the hand brake. She'd nearly forgotten that one _without_ the Doctor's help. She tapped it with her finger, then pointed up at the Doctor, who was grinning at her like a loon. "And I mean a _reasonable hour _on Sunday, got that? I've got laundry to do."

"Reasonable hour, check!" The Doctor bounded around the console, flicking switches and turning dials, until he stopped right next to her, looking pointedly from her to the hand brake and back.

"And if you're really nice to me," Donna said, grinning up at him as she released the brake, "we might even make a habit of this."

"Weekends in the stars, it'll be brilliant!" the Doctor enthused at the TARDIS hummed. "And back by Sunday! Course, there _was _that one time I got off by about a year, but the chances of that happening twice are..." he made a hand gesture that could have been interpreted as meaning anything from 'titchy' to 'quite likely.'

"You were off by an _entire bloody year?!"_

She couldn't hear his answer over the grinding of the TARDIS, but she could hear the laughter that followed it. And--she couldn't help it--she joined in.

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Now, off to poke at a cracktastic hand!Ten plotbunny!


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